Why Just Watch?
by Ms-Figg
Summary: PWP. Graphic. Potions Apprentice Hermione Granger accidentally walks in on a very compromising scene involving the Potions Master and can't seem to walk away. AU/AR, D/s, H/C, Language, M/F, PWP, Spank, Voy
1. A Reluctant Voyeur

**Chapter 1 A Reluctant Voyeur  
**  
Nineteen year old Potions apprentice Hermione Granger let herself into the Potions classroom, heading for the labs. She had some brewing to complete for her snarky Potions master Severus Snape. It was one in the morning and she was dressed in her nightie, housecoat and fuzzy slippers. She had rooms in the dungeon corridor especially built for her. She was the first apprentice the Potions master had ever taken on and it was only because she was "mildly promising" as professor Snape put it.

Hermione slowed as she approached the lab, because the door was cracked, light was coming out of it as well as a number of noises. Thumping mostly. Cautiously, she pushed the door open, her eyes going wide.

There in the lab, was professor Snape, and bent over his desk was a shrieking woman whose head was wildly covered by her hair, and the wizard was fucking the shit out of her, the desk actually lifting off the floor from his efforts.

"Oh my gods," Hermione breathed out loud, covering her hand with her mouth.

Snape heard her and looked at the young witch in the doorway.

"Ah . . . apprentice . . . I should be . . . finished shortly," the wizard breathed. He was in his robes, but they were open and his dingy white briefs down around his calves. He continued pounding into the woman, gripping her waist and driving into her. His head was bent forward, his greasy hair swinging around his head as he focused, letting out purrs and groans of pleasure.

"Yes, right there," the wizard hissed as the woman let out a squeal. "That's it, isn't it witch? Take this . . . and this . . . and this!"

Hermione could see how big the wizard's cock was. He was huge, the shaft thick and glistening as he buried it in the woman over and over. He stopped long enough to place one foot on the edge of the desk, clutched two pale handfuls of buttocks and spread them wider, then slammed into the woman almost viciously, immersing himself up to his balls, and rolling his hips lustfully, the woman hollering then suddenly letting out a shriek, shuddering, moaning and climaxing as Snape began giving her long, deep strokes, hissing.

"Ah, good . . . good pussy," he breathed as her sleeve clutched around him, milking him. Suddenly the wizard cursed, rammed himself deep inside the woman and ejaculated, his balls pulsing fiercely as Snape threw his head back and grunted loudly in counterpoint to the woman's whimpers. He held himself there for a minute, then withdrew, holding his robes out of the way as he did so, giving Hermione a clear view of his assets.

Hermione stared at the size of Snape's cock. He had to be at least ten inches long, and she had no idea what his girth was, but he looked about three fingers width and the head was large and mushroom-shaped. By the way the skin was slightly wrinkled by the base of his shaft, she could tell he was uncut. His entire length was literally dripping with juices, the monstrous tool rising from a nest of curling black hair.

Snape gave Hermione a half glance and she could have sworn he smirked before withdrawing his wand from a pocket and scourgifying first himself, then the woman. He pulled up his briefs and began fastening his robes.

The witch stood up as well. She looked directly at Hermione with a lascivious smile, not the least embarrassed the young woman watched her get shagged. She picked up a wand on the desk and passed it over herself, suddenly dressed demurely in blue robes. She looked up at Snape.

"It's a pleasure visiting you, Snape. A girl can always count on a nut or two," she said to the dour wizard with a smile.

Snape reached into his pocket and deposited three galleons into her outstretched hand, then scowled at her.

"If that is indeed the case, Melissa . . . perhaps you should be paying me," he purred.

She slapped him playfully on his shoulder.

"You're so funny, Professor. Thanks. Drop Madame Tootsie an owl next time you need servicing," Melissa said, walking past Hermione and giving her a wicked smile.

"He's ugly as hell, but a right stud, you know," she confided to Hermione before exiting.

Snape cast a freshening charm and walked up to Hermione, staring down at her with his black eyes. They flicked over her consideringly.

"You can continue your work, apprentice," the wizard said, then exited the lab with a billow of robes, Hermione blinking after him.

Merlin's braided pubes. Did she just see what she thought she saw?

Hermione pinched herself and winced. No, it wasn't a dream. She had walked in on professor Snape shagging a prostitute. He hadn't even stopped when he saw her, just said he'd be finished shortly and kept right on shagging.

As if in a dream, Hermione walked over to the covered cauldron, lifted the lid and checked it. It was time to add the next ingredients. She had to make herself stay focused as she chopped and measured the proper herbs, though she wanted to think about what she saw.

Damn, professor Snape had the biggest cock she'd ever seen. Not that she'd seen any others up close other than Ron's, which was about average. And she had never seen a wizard shag the way he did. He was . . . was brutal.

And the prostitute loved being pummeled that way.

Hermione felt a little pulse.

"Ew," she breathed, "don't tell me that actually turned me on. Oh my gods! Blech!"

She had to tell someone what she saw, but it couldn't be Ron.

* * *

"You saw what?" a disbelieving Ginny Weasley gasped at Hermione while they sat in the kitchen of the Burrow.

"Shhh! I don't want everyone to know, but I saw professor Snape shagging a prostitute in the lab at Hogwarts," Hermione whispered.

"What did you do?" Ginny pressed her, her brown eyes wide.

"Nothing. I just stood there and . . . and watched," Hermione said.

"You didn't leave?" Ginny asked her, amazed.

Hermione realized how this sounded. She hadn't even thought about how she continued to stand there watching the professor put it to the witch.

"It was like I was frozen or something, Ginny. Stunned," Hermione said.

"I guess I would be too," Ginny replied, then her eyes narrowed and she looked about the kitchen for a moment, then licked her lips as she looked at Hermione.

"So, did you see 'it?'" she asked Hermione.

"It?" Hermione repeated back at her.

"Yes. 'It.' His cock . . . did you see it?" Ginny hissed.

"Did I see it? I couldn't help but see it, Ginny. He's huge . . . like a hippogriff. I don't see how she took all of it without getting busted in half," Hermione breathed, her eyes glazing at the memory. He has to be ten inches long at least . . . and so thick . . ."

"Wow," Ginny said, "I always thought he'd have a big one, because of his nose. Why is it that all the ugly wizards have the big tools?"

Hermione shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe it's Nature's way of compensating for their looks," she suggested.

"Just once I'd like to find a beautiful wizard with an equally beautiful joystick," Ginny said wistfully.

Hermione blinked at Ginny.

"What about Harry? What do you mean just once? Ginny . . . Ginny are you cheating on Harry?" Hermione asked her, scowling.

Ginny colored.

"Well, we're not married, Hermione. Not yet. Harry's sweet and he's affectionate, but sometimes I feel there's something out there I might be missing. Once we get married, there's not going to be any room for experimenting, Hermione. It's going to be for life. I just want to see what other wizards are like, though my heart really does belong to Harry," she said to her friend. "So yeah, I've had a couple of flings. But Harry doesn't know and I was careful. You aren't going to tell him are you?"

Hermione stared at Ginny.

"No. It's not my place to tell him. Just don't break his heart, Ginny. I'll never forgive you if you do that," Hermione said.

"I don't plan to, Hermione. Besides, we aren't seeing that much of each other right now with him doing guard detail as the Minister travels around campaigning. He's been gone over a month now," she said softly.

Hermione knew that because Ron was with him. Ron had originally worked in the Joke Shop with George but joined the Ministry as soon as he completed a few special classes he needed in order to qualify for Auror service.

Ginny studied Hermione.

"You're faithful to Ron aren't you?" the red-head asked her.

"Of course I am," Hermione said, "I've never been with anyone but Ron."

Ginny nodded.

"I wish I could be like you, Hermione. Being happy with what you have and not worried that you might be passing something better by. It must be great to be satisfied. To never wonder what it would be like to be with another wizard," Ginny said wistfully.

Hermione just looked at her.

Yes, it had been wonderful. She just wasn't sure if it was now.

* * *

Later in the week, Hermione had to work with professor Snape on a brewing project. She was very quiet as she worked with the wizard, simply handing him ingredients and utensils as needed, not full of questions as she usually was. Snape noticed the lack of irritating behavior immediately.

"Is there something wrong, apprentice?" he asked the witch. He never called her Miss Granger anymore. He always addressed her as apprentice, as if she had no other name. She believed it was a power thing.

"No sir," Hermione replied as he stirred the contents of the cauldron six quick times then eight slow times in the opposite direction.

"I believe there is, given your lack of annoying questions. Does this have anything to do with what you witnessed the other night?" he asked her silkily, still attending the cauldron.

Hermione didn't answer him.

"Ah, I see it does," the wizard purred, placing the lid on the cauldron, then turning down the flame to set it on simmer. He turned to look at Hermione, his dark eyes searching her face.

"You find it disturbing to know I have needs?" he asked her softly.

"No. I just find it disturbing to watch you meeting your needs," Hermione replied, "You didn't stop when I entered the lab."

Snape arched an eyebrow at her.

"I told you I would be finished shortly when I saw you standing there. You could have withdrawn, apprentice. You were in a better situation to do so than I. Besides, I would have still had to pay the witch whether I completed the act or not. I prefer to get my money's worth," he said to her.

"You certainly did that," Hermione said under her breath.

"Is that . . . disapproval I hear?" Snape asked her, his mouth quirking a bit.

Hermione looked at him, frowning.

"Yes. It is. Why are you paying for sex? It's disgusting," she said self-righteously.

Snape stared at her. Didn't she see what he looked like?

"I pay for sex because it is convenient. I don't have to spend months wooing women in the hopes that they'll look beyond my features and spend time with me," he said tightly, "The prostitutes provide the same pleasure and look no further than my purse."

"But you're a hero," Hermione said.

"A hero," Snape spat. "That makes no difference. I am not what you call an attractive hero. I am who I am and I work with what I have to work with, apprentice."

Snape fell silent for a moment, his dark eyes washing over Hermione before taking on a wicked gleam.

"So, since you were in a position of observation, what are your thoughts on what I have to work with, apprentice?"

Hermione looked at him, shocked.

"Don't think I didn't notice your . . . scrutiny at the 'close.' You went completely colorless," Snape purred at her. "I believe it was because of what I 'work' with. I'd like the opinion of a woman I haven't used it on. Give me your . . . impressions. That's the least you could do since you invaded my privacy so blatantly."

"Invaded your privacy? Professor, you were shagging in the lab for gods' sakes!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Yes, I was. And you didn't leave. What am I to make of that?" he asked her.

"That I was frozen with horror, that's what," Hermione snapped at him. "Surely you don't think I stayed because I wanted to see you?"

Snape's lip curled sardonically.

"What else am I to think? You looked absolutely stunned at what I was doing to that witch. I imagine you've never experienced being on the receiving end of such . . . passion or lust," he said to Hermione silkily.

Hermione felt a little pulse in her belly and Snape's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at her.

"You're flushing," he said softly.

"You're embarrassing me," Hermione shot back at him. "I don't want to have this discussion."

"Very well. But next time you want to comment on how wrong it is I use paid sexual services, be sure you have a better alternative to suggest," the wizard hissed, leaving the lab quickly.

Hermione blinked after him. What the hell did he mean by that? What kind of better alter . . .

Hermione's knees buckled.

Surely he wasn't suggesting that he shag her! That was . . . was madness. He was out of his mind if he thought she'd even consider letting him stick that monster in her and ride her like a broom. Imagine . . .

Oh gods. She didn't want to imagine it . . .

. . . but a tiny part of her did.

* * *

A/N: Yeah. Yeah. I know. Ya'll don't have to say it. I was drawing a block on my other stories so wrote something different in hopes of clearing the cobwebs. I'd probably do one more chapter and finish this PWP. And keep it a damn PWP. :::shakes head::: Thanks for reading. 


	2. A Proposition

**Chapter 2 A Proposition**

A soaked, gasping Ron rolled off of Hermione and to his back, his red hair plastered to his head as he panted, his eyes closed and chest rising and falling from the effort. His limbs felt like lead.

"Ron!" Hermione cried.

"What? Hermione are you trying to bloody kill me? My heart's going to give out!" Ron complained to the naked little witch pulling at his shoulder. "I can't keep this up. You're killing me. I'm only shooting dust now."

Hermione stared at Ron. For the past few days she'd really put the wizard through his paces, insisting on strong, rough and long-lasting sex several times a night, reaching for something she just couldn't seem to get.

The first time, Ron was pleasantly surprised at Hermione's randiness and did his best to accommodate her. The second time it was still good. The third time it was getting a bit rough. The fourth time was murder. There wasn't a fifth.

"Did you drink an irreversible lust potion or something?" Ron asked her the second night.

"No. I'm just . . . just in the mood to shag," Hermione told her lover, unable to say that she was trying to get to the level of Snape's little trick. She wanted to feel the way Melissa felt, completely and utterly reamed. Ron was good, but he couldn't give that to her. He wasn't that kind of lover and let's face it. He didn't have the tool the Potions master did.

This was the fourth night in a row that Ron had marathon sex with Hermione and he couldn't take anymore. His body needed rest and even the mention of sex was enough to make his stomach ache. As soon as he caught his breath, he looked at Hermione.

"Listen, 'Mione. I need a break from all the shagging. I have body aches where I didn't even know I had muscles and it feels as if I've scraped off all my foreskin from friction. I can't keep this up. I'm sorry. How about I bring you a toy from Cedric's Sex Symposium to fill in for me until I recover?" the wizard suggested.

If this had only been one or two nights of unbridled, body-breaking sex, Ron might have felt a bit inadequate, but he had worked hard these past few days and believed he'd performed quite well. This was something that was happening with Hermione, not him. He couldn't keep up and he had to do something. He was in a state of constant ache and he had to work.

"A toy? Ron, I don't want a toy!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Well, you're going to have to do something Hermione, because I'm all out," the wizard said, getting up long enough to pull on his briefs then climbing back into bed. He kissed Hermione on her stiff lips.

"I'm going to sleep love. Please, just let me sleep," he said to her, rolling over with his back facing her and protectively placing both arms between his legs in a semi-fetal position to protect what was left of his package. In a minute, he was asleep, Hermione looking at him with a furrowed brow.

She sighed, placed her hands on her lower belly and looked up at the ceiling. The ache was still there. Ron had managed to tap it but not break it despite his best efforts. Hermione even found herself fantasizing she was the prostitute and Ron was the professor during intercourse but it didn't work. Too many elements were missing. Ron didn't do "talking dirty" well. Snape was vocal, apparently, but Ron was more focused. He could hardly close his mouth when shagging, much less speak.

This kind of longing was terrible. Just terrible. Hermione wasn't satisfied with Ron's performance. He had always satisfied her before.

Before she saw Snape in action that is, and what he was 'working' with.

Hermione had fallen into the deep well of longing for the taboo, the wrong, the completely unsuitable. Ron would never be able to fulfill that hole because he didn't come near fitting it properly. He wasn't dark, cold, or cruel. He didn't have a voice that could shoot to a witch's core. He didn't walk about giving off an aura of reserve by day and animal passion by night. He didn't have intense black eyes . . . or greasy hair . . . or a big beak of a nose . . . or a cruel, petulant mouth . . .

In other words, he was no Snape.

And that was a real problem.

* * *

"Apprentice, I'm afraid you're going to have to be on call for the next two weeks. I have several potions that I am going to need you to help maintain and they will require constant attending. You are going to have to stay at the castle," Snape told Hermione the next evening, handing her several parchments with instructions.

"Yes sir," Hermione said, not looking at him. She couldn't. Whenever she did all she could see was him in the lab shagging Melissa for all he was worth, his foot propped up on the desk, his penetration of her body visible, buttocks clenching, balls and hair swinging as he held the shrieking woman firmly . . .

"Apprentice," Snape suddenly said and startled, Hermione looked up at him with hot eyes for a moment before she recovered.

Snape studied her.

"You seem distracted. I hope nothing in your personal life will interfere with your work. These potions are important and the ingredients costly. I can't afford any mistakes being made," he said to her silkily, his eyes seeming to look inside her.

"Yes sir," Hermione said, swallowing and looking back down at the brewing instructions.

Snape's gaze drifted over Hermione's bushy brown hair and robed body consideringly. She had been acting quite different over the past two weeks. Ever since the night she saw him with Melissa. Quite different. Nervous. Skittish. Almost . . . afraid. Yet it wasn't the kind of afraid that was fear inspired. This was something else. Hm. Maybe he should explore his suspicions as to what was going on with the little walking brain.

"Your vocabulary seems to have dwindled down to only two words in my presence, apprentice," the Potions master said quietly. "I've noticed a marked change in your behavior and your . . . body language as well."

Hermione looked up at him now.

"My . . . my body language?" she said, her voice almost a whisper.

"Yesssss," the wizard hissed softly. "There is a . . . reaction when I come near you now. Very slight, but I notice it. My many years as a spy has made me sensitive to such things. A change in an individual's body language usually means there has been a change in perception. Has your perception of me . . . changed, apprentice?"

"Changed? Why would it have changed?" Hermione said, hoping her voice sounded light and carefree.

Snape's lip quirked. They were in his lab.

"Possibly because you've seen me in a sexual situation and it . . . intrigued you," he said in a rather seductive voice.

"Why . . . why that's just ridiculous!" Hermione spluttered as her belly did a series of flip-flops at how the professor divined exactly how she was feeling. Most men couldn't tell what women felt.

"Is it?" the professor crooned at her, an eyebrow arched. "The lady doth protest too much, methinks . . . Hermione."

Hermione was shocked at the professor's use of her given name. He had never, ever used it before. His usage of it felt so . . . so personal . . . so intimate that she blushed.

As the witch colored, Snape knew for certain he had his finger on the pulse of her little problem. Possibly, if he approached this situation correctly, he'd have more than his finger on it. However, he would have to take control of the situation. Well, he was going to test the waters.

Snape slowly pulled out his wand, Hermione watching him silently as the wizard pointed it at the lab door and flicked it. The door swung closed and clicked, locking. Then he breathed, "Silencio' and put his wand back in his pocket. He looked down at the witch, saying nothing.

Hermione couldn't seem to move or speak and her heart was racing. She should be protesting, asking the wizard what the hell did he think he was doing? Demanding that he lift the Silencing spell and unward that door this instant, or she'd report him! There were so many things she should be doing, but wasn't. All she could do was look at Snape, his dark eyes glinting at her expectantly. Where was her voice? Where did it run to?

"I was going to send an owl to Madame Tootsie's tonight," the wizard said softly, "but before I do that, I was wondering, Hermione, do you have an alternative suggestion to my paying for sex? One that might be quite . . . fulfilling for both of us? I would love to slake your curiosity about what it would be like to be on the receiving end of my passion. There's no other wizard who can do that as you probably already know."

Hermione's mouth dropped open soundlessly for a second, then snapped shut. Was he using Legilimency on her? Did he know she fantasized about him when having sex with Ron?

"Don't look so shocked, Hermione," Snape said softly, "it is normal to fantasize about someone that attracts you. I myself am guilty of putting you in Melissa's place on several occasions, ever since I saw the way you looked at me when I finished her. I thought perhaps you would like me to do to you what I did to her. But with you . . ."

Snape lifted Hermione's chin with one pale finger.

"I would be even more . . . passionate. You are no whore after all, nor are you promiscuous. I know you've only been with Ronald Weasley and it is commendable, but foolish. Witches and wizards marry for life, and once you tie the knot with him, there will be no experimentation, no exploration with other men. Fidelity is a good thing within a marriage, but . . . to be so young, single and so limited in experiences . . . is not. I don't believe it would be conducive to your mind or your body to ignore what you are feeling, or to deny yourself knowledge of at least one other man before you permanently bind yourself to Mr. Weasley. I would be quite honored to be that man for you, Hermione. All you have to say is you want this. No one will ever know what happened between us."

Hermione blinked at the professor, still unable to speak. But she had to say something.

Would it be "Let me out?"

* * *

A/N: Ooh la la. :::chuckles::: Thanks for reading. 


	3. Snape’s Reasoning or the Art of Logical

**Chapter 3 Snape's Reasoning or the Art of Logical Seduction**

Hermione looked up into the pale face of the Potions master, her heart feeling as if it were trying to enter her throat. He gazed back at her, his face betraying none of his thoughts.

"You . . . you wouldn't tell anyone, professor?" she asked him tremulously.

Snape shook his head.

"Not a soul," he replied. "I've kept secrets all my life. Having you would be one of my more pleasant ones. I have never taken a witch of such substance and virtue before. I have never attracted one. So you see, Hermione, this would be rather special for me."

Hermione's face contorted slightly as she battled with herself. Professor Snape was known for his ability to keep secrets. As he said, he had done it all his life. She had no reason to believe he'd tell anyone about them. Besides, who would he tell? He didn't seem to socialize with anyone and she couldn't imagine him sitting in a pub somewhere bragging to other wizards. He just wasn't that kind of man. Still there was a little flaw in what he said to her, one she addressed.

"Yes, but if I do this, Professor, what virtue I do have will be gone," she said to him. "I'll be like every other fast, cheating witch in the Wizarding World."

Snape looked at her consideringly. He didn't think the witch giving into her urges for once in her life classified her as a trollop. She was an adult and had a right to follow and meet her desires. It didn't make her a 'bad witch' to do so. Only an honest one. But Hermione was a Gryffindor and they had been constantly drilled to have rather noble and completely unrealistic ideals on how life should be lived. Like in a bloody fairytale. Well, young woman . . . this was no fairytale. Snape took the dragon by the scales.

"As far as I'm concerned you will still retain your virtue since as I said, you are not a promiscuous woman and what you feel is completely natural. As far as cheating goes, that is a matter of perspective. Personally, I don't feel it's cheating unless you have a ring on your finger, which you don't. Let me ask you this, Hermione . . . what good is a loyalty that has already been internally compromised? Inside, you have already broken that bond with Mr. Weasley by longing for the touch of another man. And really witch, is there anything more important in this world than to be true to yourself?" Snape purred at her.

"That's a Slytherin philosophy, not a Gryffindor one," she replied.

"This is true, but a good philosophy just the same. It allows us not to live repressed lives, which in turn allows us to live happier ones in which we act on our inclinations without guilt. Tell me, do you really want to go through your life wondering what it would have been like to have me for a lover at least once? As a man who has lived a life of regrets, I advise you not to do this to yourself. Don't set yourself up with a future full of self-recriminations concerning what at you 'should have done' when you had the opportunity. It is not a pleasant way to live," the wizard said softly, taking his finger away from her chin.

The wizard could see that Hermione's resolve was wavering. All he had to do was stick the knife of logic in just a little deeper, twist it a little sharper. Appeal to her sense of reason. There was only a thin wire of reluctance left and he could slice right through it if he just pressed forward. Gryffindors had a weakness for blunt honesty, and Snape was going to be brutally honest and exploit that weakness as much as possible.

He made his final pitch. He affixed his dark eyes to Hermione's brown ones and willed the witch to take in his every word as he spoke.

"Besides Hermione, this is nothing you can just turn off or push away. If you deny me tonight, you will still have those feelings, those secret longings. You will still lie under Weasley and wish he were me. And this will affect other aspects of your life as well as our working relationship. My job is to teach you how to be the best Potions mistress you can be, and we still have three more years together as Master and Apprentice. If there is something left undone between us, Hermione, it will affect your work. Myself, I am used to being denied the things I desire and have learned how to continue on without being affected by it too badly. But you don't have that luxury. In the end, if you continue to fight . . . you may end up giving up your Apprenticeship and all you have worked so hard to gain. If you want a glaring example of potential disloyalty or cheating, there it is. You will be cheating yourself out of everything," Snape said. "The Gryffindor philosophy of blind loyalty, while noble, is greatly flawed. For once in your life, be selfish . . . think like a Slytherin and act on your desires. That's the only way you can be free of them."

Hermione stared at the wizard, absorbing his words.

Damn. Professor Snape made one hell of a good case for a shag.

* * *

A/N: lol. Short chapter I know but I was laughing all the way through this. I mean, he makes sense . . . but underlying it all, he wants to get at Hermione and it tickles me. Thanks for reading. There will be shagging next chapter and THE END hopefully. No larger picture, no extensive story, just sex in the lab! That's it! That's all I want! A real freaking PWP:::walks off grumbling:::


	4. Acceptance

**Chapter 4 Acceptance**

Snape stared down at Hermione, his large nostrils slightly flared, waiting like a serpent waits, silent and curled along the path, ready to coil around the body of its intended and strike, biting deep.

Hermione's brown eyes looked up into the pale face of her Potions master, remembering his abandon the night she saw him, the night she couldn't get out of her mind, out of her dreams or out of the bed she occupied with Ron from time to time.

The professor was right.

If she didn't do this, she would always wonder what it would have been like to be with a man like him.

"I'll do it, professor," Hermione said softly despite the pounding in her ears from her racing heart.

Snape's dark eyes narrowed, his lip curling slightly at the corner as he heard her answer.

"I warn you, Hermione," he said to her, "I am no Ronald Weasley. You've consented to be mine for now . . . and mine you will be. As of right now, you belong to me . . . every part of you belongs to me to do with what I please in any way I please. Do you understand this? There will be no controlling me or curtailing me. No 'stop this' or 'don't do that.' By accepting me, you accept everything about me, witch. Every twist . . . every kink. But I will not leave you wanting, I promise you that. Now, are you absolutely sure that you are willing to engage me? I will not ask you again."

Hermione bit her lip. He expected her to surrender to him totally without any limitations. She blinked at him. Would he want to shag her anally? Gods, he was so big . . . she didn't think she could handle that. Ron did it sometimes, but it was always a bit of an ordeal with him. It would be murder with the professor.

"I . . . I don't like some things," Hermione said to him rather timidly, her eyes helplessly flicking to his loins rather quickly and she colored.

Snape arched an eyebrow at her.

"What kind of 'things?'" the wizard purred at her.

"I don't like anal sex. It hurts when Ron does it . . . I don't think . . ." she began.

Snape's eyes softened a bit.

"Anal sex isn't something that can be jumped into, particularly with a wizard of my . . . caliber," he said softly. "It requires a number of preparations and can take weeks to fully consummate. And I don't have weeks with you do I? Only . . . this one moment. Don't worry. I have no intentions on taking you in such a manner, Hermione. I am passionate, but not completely brutal. The idea of giving you pain does not arouse me. Giving you pleasure and a new experience does, however."

Hermione let out a small sigh of relief. Snape blinked down at her.

"Shall we undress?" he asked her, his pale hands going to his robes.

Hermione's eyes widened.

"Here? You want to do it here in the lab?" she asked him incredulously.

Snape looked around the lab then back at Hermione.

"I always have my encounters here. It gives me something to reminisce about during long brewings," the wizard said, starting on his robes.

"What about a bed?" Hermione asked him.

Snape stopped unfastening his robes.

"I've never taken any witch to my bed," he said, his eyes a bit hard.

"Oh," Hermione said, looking very disappointed.

Snape eyed her.

"I suppose you would rather engage me in my private chambers, rather than my lab," he said to her.

Hermione colored slightly. Yes, a bed would be better. Doing it in the lab meant she'd always be thinking about it afterwards. Whenever she entered to brew she'd think about being shagged by the wizard. She cleared her throat a little, then replied.

"Yes. Because . . . because I have to work here too, and I think it might be distracting to remember being with you in here," she said softly. "It would be a constant reminder, and this is supposed to only be for one night."

"Yes, that is what it is supposed to be," the wizard repeated, looking thoughtful.

Suddenly, he caught Hermione's hand.

"Very well. You shall be the first to enter my bedchambers. You are more than worthy of such treatment. Besides, I have a dresser. It can double as a desk in a pinch," he said to her his eyes hot.

Snape knew that Hermione had to have fantasized about being bent over his desk. It was what she had witnessed after all. He planned to recreate the act for her.

"Come with me," he hissed, pulling Hermione along behind him roughly as they exited the lab.

If she wanted to bounce off his mattress and Slytherin green satin sheets, he'd oblige her.

Hermione allowed Snape to lead her through the lab, through his office and watched as he opened the wall to his private rooms. She had been in there once or twice, though normally they met in his office or the lab. His grip on her hands was firm, but not tight. She could feel his warmth and strength as he held on to her rather possessively, as if she might run away if he released her.

Snape pulled her into his study, past all the black and brown books that ran floor to ceiling on almost every bit of wall and into his bedroom.

The first thing Hermione noticed was the thick, lush, rich green shag carpet beneath her feet. Then the beautiful, intricately carved four-poster bed, wardrobe, dresser and chairs, images of coiled serpents gracing every piece, slithering up the posts of the bed, around the borders of the dresser and mirror, making up the arms of the two upholstered chairs.

Thick candles, rather than torches rested in the sconces, emitting a warm, comfortable glow, and . . . a spicy scent. Possibly sandalwood. The bed was covered in rich, green satin sheets with matching pillowcases covering pillows that seemed to be goose down.

On the stone walls hung paintings of landscapes. All dark and mysterious, moonlight streaming over fields and lakes. The clouds moved, making the moonlight wax and wane.

Hermione looked at Snape, surprised at the opulence.

"Not everything has to be sparse and bare," the wizard purred. "This is where I repose. Of course I want it to be comfortable."

He released her hand.

"Now, undress," he hissed, his pale hands once again going to the fasteners of his robes.

Hermione watched him for a moment, then slowly complied.

* * *

A/N: Short I know, but I'm moving forward. Ah, a Snape with comforts. That's the ticket. Lol. Thanks for reading. 


	5. A Bit of Teasing, a Bit of Taking

**Chapter 5 A Bit of Teasing, a Touch of Taking**

Snape's fingers fairly flew down the front of his robes. Hermione let out a little shriek when he suddenly whipped them open like a flasher, thrusting his loins forward and revealing nothing underneath but . . . skin. He wasn't wearing anything. He let his robes fall to the floor.

"Oh my gods . . . professor! You're . . . you're naked!" Hermione gasped, covering her mouth as she looked at his lean, pale body. The Dark Mark was clearly visible on his left forearm and a number of scars could be seen on his chest and belly.

Snape smirked as he began to swell, his pale, trunk-like cock slowly extending itself in Hermione's direction, lifting, the thick, mushroomed-shaped head slipping from the folds of Snape's foreskin much like a turtle peeking out from its shell.

Hermione watched the wizard's awakening tool, mesmerized, her own hands stilled.

"Some days I go 'commando,'" he purred, delighted he had shocked the witch. "Not that I ever wear anything under my robes other than briefs. Now, tear your eyes away from my erection and get naked. You'll see it close up and personal soon enough, I assure you."

Hermione swallowed and continued unbuttoning her robes as Snape removed his boots and socks, wriggling his long toes in the deep shag carpet. He straightened and looked at Hermione impatiently as she peeled off her robes, revealing a pink blouse with an amazing amount of tiny buttons down the front and on the cuffs and a pair of jeans. He looked down at her feet and realized that her trainers were high-tops and laced to the hilt.

"Dear gods," the wizard said, looking at all the little buttons, jeans and laced trainers. "I'm going to be an old man by the time you get out of all that!"

Snape grabbed his robes off the floor, pulled out his wand, pointed it at Hermione and said, "Divesto!"

That took care of the problem neatly as Hermione squealed, covering her breasts with her hands, bending and clamping her thighs together. Snape arched an eyebrow at her.

"Now, that is not a conducive position at all," he told her, dropping the wand.

Suddenly he grabbed the naked witch and picking her up, strode toward the mirrored dresser and set her down on top of it.

"Much better setup," Snape said, his dark eyes washing over her curvaceous little body. Hermione had large breasts and hips and rather thick thighs. Curly brown hair rested at the apex of those luscious thighs.

Snape made a sound as he looked at her, then licked his lips as he met her eyes.

"You are lovely," he hissed, catching her waist and pulling Hermione forward a bit.

Then he pushed her shoulders and Hermione leaned back against the mirror, shivering a bit as the cold glass came in contact with her skin. As she lay against the mirror, her body slightly curled, her thighs open to the wizard, Hermione had never felt so vulnerable in her life.

Or so wet.

Snape gently cupped both of her breasts, the brown peaks hardened into tight buds. He began to play with them, squeezing and fondling their fullness, mashing them together, flicking his thumbs over them, his eyes on Hermione's face the entire time.

His hands felt wonderful. They were large, slightly calloused and roughened. Definitely a working man's hands. Hermione let out a moan as he caressed her.

"You like me touching you, don't you Hermione?" he breathed, his eyes glittering as the witch began to respond to his touch, her lower lip wet and trembling as her eyes went half-lidded. He lightly pinched her nipples, making her gasp at the slight pain before sliding his hands down her belly and over her thighs. He stopped for a moment, then slipped one hand between her legs, gently touching her wet core with his fingertips.

He hissed as Hermione buckled.

"So wet and so sensitive," Snape purred, his face contorting with lust as he gently slipped his fingers through her folds, "I'm going to enjoy fucking you, witch. You're going to love this cock."

He began to caress his thick shaft, shifting the foreskin back and forth, his eyes locked to Hermione's eyes as he did so, observing her reactions as he twiddled her. Hermione shifted helplessly as Snape pleasured her with his fingers, stroking himself slowly.

Oh gods, he talked so dirty . . .made her feel so dirty, playing in her pussy as he said such nasty, hot words.

And Hermione discovered she liked dirty

Suddenly, Snape pushed forward, removing his hand from between Hermione's legs and resting his heavy tool on her belly, thrusting gently, the hard member sliding over her skin as Hermione looked down at it. He licked her juices from his fingers, then snarled at her lustfully.

"Touch me. Familiarize yourself with what will soon be inside you," he hissed, grabbing one of her hands and bringing it to his cock.

Hermione grasped it. It was hot, pulsing, and hard beneath the delicate skin surround the shaft. Small veins encircled it, raised and full of blood. Her hand began to move, running up and down the length of it as Snape let out a breath and closed his eyes in pleasure, thrusting in her small, warm hand, his arms hanging at his sides.

"That's right," Snape breathed, "Caress me, feel how much meat hangs from this thin frame . . . how much hard hot meat I'm going to stuff inside your sweet little body."

Hermione thought she might orgasm right now listening to the wizard. Gods, he was nasty. So deliciously nasty. Ron never talked to her like this.

Snape rocked back and forth, sighing and groaning as Hermione gave him a handjob. Suddenly his eyes snapped open and his nostrils flared. Hermione swore she saw smoke issue from them as if from the nostrils of a randy dragon as he pulled away from her, then pushed her legs as wide as they would go, yanking her forward so she slumped even more against the mirror, panting with excitement as the wizard looked down on her, his greasy hair a curtain around his face, shadowing it, his eyes like glittering diamonds in the dark. He grasped his cock and pressed it to her entrance, Hermione letting out a groan at the size of it resting against her core.

"Grab my waist," Snape growled.

"What?" Hermione murmured, disoriented and aroused as the wizard's hardness pressed against her. She shifted her pelvis anxiously.

"Grab my waist!" Snape demanded.

Hermione did as he asked.

"Now, pull me forward. Slide me into your hungry pussy," he breathed, "Show me you want it, witch. Show me you want me to fuck you."

Hermione loved how Snape used the word 'fuck' rather than 'shag.' Shag sounded so juvenile and there was nothing childish about what was occurring between them. Hermione did as he asked, her hands grasping his thin waist. She could feel scars under her fingers at the small of his back. He had been through so much.

"Now pull me," Snape hissed.

Hermione did so, letting out a gasp as the fat head penetrated her, stretching her flesh around its girth. Gods, it felt so good!

"Ooooh!" Hermione gasped as Snape let out a groan.

"More! More witch!" he urged her, trembling, fighting his urge to thrust deep.

Hermione pulled him forward, feeling as if she were being filled by a Quidditch bat and not a man as his stiff pole was immersed in her body, parting her flesh like the bow of a ship sliced through water. Finally it seemed he could go no deeper. He rested against her cervix, throbbing inside her.

"Oh, Professor," Hermione groaned, writhing as Snape leaned forward, resting his hands on the dresser, his hair dangling around his pale face, his eyes glinting.

"You have quite a bit of depth for a small witch. I think perhaps you will be able to take all of me in a bit," he breathed, "what a pleasure that will be. I love the feel of my loins slapping against a fat, juicy bum."

"You're so dirty," Hermione hissed up at him, her eyes glazed.

"You don't know the half of it, witch," he replied, his lips curling lasciviously. "More than likely I will be the dirtiest wizard you'll ever meet. Now . . ."

Snape drew his hips back, sliding almost completely out of Hermione's hot and ready body.

" . . . we fuck," he purred, thrusting forward hard.

* * *

A/N: And they're off! Another shorty, but it's a busy morning. At least we know they're actually doing something now. Lololol. Thanks for reading. (Don't kill me) 


	6. Assuming the Position

**Chapter 6 Assuming the Position**

Hermione let out a cry as Snape plowed through her, larger and harder than life, a small ache accompanying his thrust when her body checked him, much less than what she expected, but gods, so good her mouth just fell open.

"Ah, I see I have the measure of it then," Snape sneered down at Hermione, the expression on his face a mixture of lust, victory and derision as he pulled back, sliding through her, only his hips moving as he leaned over her, his wiry arms resting on either side of her curled body.

Her neck was probably going to pay for this position, but who gave a damn right now? Snape drove into her again and again, his lips pursed as she squelched around him, Hermione letting out cries of pleasure as he jerked her body deliciously, those black eyes narrowed and not missing any of her reaction.

The professor fucked much differently than Ron, who would thrust quickly and rapid-fire, primarily concerned with stimulating himself as he humped away. Every thrust Snape made had a purpose, and that purpose was to be as affecting as possible to the witch curled under him, a slight pause at the end of each deep thrust as if to make sure he connected fully. It was as if he wanted a gasp per stroke. He found a rhythm he liked and Hermione clutched his arms, her eyes wet, lost to the feel of him possessing her body, pounding inside her like another beating heart.

"Has Ronald Weasley ever made you feel like this?" he asked her softly as he hit her deep, Hermione crying out. "Or this . . . or this . . . or . . . this?"

Snape put it to her hungrily, grunting his pleasure as he filled the witch over and over, watching her body jerk, her full breasts bouncing in tangent with his penetration.

"Mmmm, yes . . . yes. Exquisite . . ." the wizard groaned as her tight sleeve caressed and clutched at him, her juices squishing noisily, wetting his balls.

Snape sped up a bit, Hermione's voice rising an octave as his thick tool reamed her thoroughly. Gods, now she had an idea what Heaven was like.

By now, the mirror was rocking dangerously and Snape heard a bit of a warning creak come from it, as if the screws that held it in place were dangerously close to being dislodged. He stopped pumping, Hermione's eyes flying wide open as she clutched at his lean buttocks, trying to pull him back . . . make him continue.

"Oh ho, the Gryffindor lioness wants a bit more Slytherin serpent, does she?" the wizard said a bit mockingly, clearly pleased Hermione was yanking on him in such a manner, his cock still immersed a third of the way inside her.

"Ssssss . . . Sssssss," Snape hissed, teasing her with tiny thrusts.

Making a frustrated sound and still hanging on to the wizard's pale flanks, Hermione wound her pelvis in an attempt to lure him deeper. Snape let out a rasping noise as his organ whirled in her wetness, but he managed to keep from driving into her, instead pulling out completely.

"What are you doing? Why are you . . . you . . ." Hermione cried to the wizard, her eyes wild and nearly undone.

Snape straightened, Hermione's eyes resting on his cock. It was so drenched by the witch's lubrication; it looked as if someone had buttered it. Snape looked down at it also, his lip quirked as he looked back at the witch.

"Why did I stop?" the wizard replied, running a pale finger down his erect shaft and collecting her cream on the tip. He inserted it into his mouth and sucked his finger loudly, pulling it from between his lips with a "pop" before continuing.

"Because, as delicious as your pussy is, Hermione, I still don't want to risk receiving seven years ill luck because we've broken the mirror while I indulged myself. Besides . . . "

Hermione let out a squeal as Snape grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her off the dresser, spinning her around and pressing her down so she was bent over it, gasping at the rough treatment. A nasty smirk on his face, Snape locked his pale fingers in her hair and pulled her head back so she could see herself in the silver glass and him standing behind her, his face sober as he looked back at her flushed reflection.

" . . . I believe this is the position you'd . . . prefer, if my suspicions are correct," he said.

Hermione's brown eyes glistened as she looked through the mirror at the greasy-haired wizard. Her mouth worked, but nothing came out. Snape smirked and rested his cock right on the curve of her buttocks then leaned over her, pressing it against her soft flesh as he whispered, looking at her though the glass, his face next to hers, his mouth just grazing the shell of her ear. His lips and warm breath tickled, and she closed her eyes as he spoke.

"This is the position Melissa was in . . . you remember Melissa don't you? The witch you wanted to be . . ." he said seductively, rubbing his cock against her arse sensually. ". . . the witch who demonstrated my . . . abilities."

He ran his tongue over her throat and Hermione shuddered deliciously at the feeling of that hot, supple muscle against her skin.

"I make it a point not to put my mouth on any witch in any manner," he breathed, "because once a wizard does that, the act is elevated to something more than sex, and I like to keep things . . . neat. However, I made an exception because I've always wondered what your skin tasted like. Salty . . . and sweet."

Hermione trembled again as Snape's mouth tightened and he drew back, straightening. He looked down on Hermione, the riot of brown hair locked between his fingers, the smooth skin of her back, the dip and rise of it, the plump full buttocks, round and unblemished.

He blinked at them for a moment, then softly said, "I think you need a bit of color to you cheeks."

Hermione's eyes widened then she let out a choked squeak as Snape brought the palm of his hand down on her flesh, striking her arse, then smoothing out the pain.

"Oh shit!" Hermione gasped as the wizard slapped her other cheek, watching it jiggle and pinken.

"Nice shade," he purred, tightening his grip on her hair. "There have been times I've wanted to do this that had nothing to do with sex, Hermione. You were so willful . . ."

He struck her again on her right cheek, just a little to the right of the first impact.

"But you're listening now, aren't you?" Snape hissed, then proceeded to spank Hermione liberally, the witch crying out and leaking lubrication like a faucet with a bad washer. Who would have known she'd like getting spanked?

Apparently the Potions master did.

"My, my . . . you are a slippery little witch, aren't you?" he purred, the scent of her arousal filling his flared nostrils. He slipped his hand between her thighs, his eyebrows rising as he pulled his hand back and studied his glistening digits.

"A veritable wellspring of want," Snape added, licking his hand clean.

Hermione certainly was tasty and he was almost willing to break the "no mouth" rule for her, but then . . . there could be repercussions. Snape believed witches "connected" to wizards that kissed their mouths or bodies . . . or in other words became possessive and clingy. If he stuck strictly to laying cock, he didn't risk any residual unpleasantries.

Oh if sex were really just that simple.

"So, are you ready to have me ride you like a . . . Hippogriff?" Snape asked Hermione as he grasped his cock, parted her cheeks with one hand and slid the swollen tip down the cleft of her buttocks, over her rectum and between her dripping lips, Hermione gasping as it moved over her clit.

Dully, what he said registered to her lust-filled brain.

Hippogriff? Did he just say Hippogriff? Gods, did he somehow know that's how she described him to Ginny? No . . . he couldn't. Hung like he was, he probably used that kind of terminology all the time. But Hermione couldn't think any further as she felt him position himself against her.

"Giddyap!" the wizard pale cried, yanking her hair like reins and once again driving forward.

* * *

A/N: YEEEEE HAWWWWW! Rofl. You know, I just had a terrible vision of getting shot by an irate fan of this story. Lol. That's horrible! Death by cliffie. But I've got a lot to do this morning so I did what I could folks. Yep. Another long drawn out PWP. Sigh. I give up. Thanks for reading. 


	7. The Finale

**Chapter 7 The Finale**

Snape had always enjoyed the American Western matinees he'd seen as a child. Until this point however, he had only used "giddyup" when playing by himself at Spinner's end in his early youth, riding an old broom bristles first, and trotting up and down the barren, dirty streets.

Well, he no longer straddled broomsticks unless he was flying, but apparently, he still liked to ride.

Hermione howled as the Potions master proceeded to pummel her body, his pale face in a snarl as he drove into her body at a furious pace, his perspiration splashing on her like rain as he squelched through her dripping sleeve. One foot propped on the dresser, he was balls deep now, her body adjusting to his size like he knew it would. The wizard leaned back, keeping his tight grip on her hair, pulling her head back, his black eyes locked on her reddened face in the mirror, watching her as she shrieked with pleasure.

Yes, Hermione loved the way he fucked.

"Potions master cock is delicious, isn't it, Hermione?" he breathed, ramming his thick cock deep inside Hermione and holding it there, his loins resting against her soft red ass. He leaned a bit lower, his mouth close to her ear, the witch quaking as if experiencing a personal earthquake. "My meat is very filling isn't it? Especially for your particular hunger."

Hermione let out a tortured moan.

"Answer me!" Snape hissed, driving into her again. "My meat is filling, isn't it? Isn't it?"

"YES!" Hermione cried.

"I know it is witch. Here's more for you," he hissed, resuming his assault of her young, luscious body. Gods, this was so good . . . much more enjoyable than fucking prostitutes, simply because Hermione was who she was, a brilliant woman, normally one of strict moral values and once he had accessed by seduction alone.

She was quite the coup.

But that brilliant mind was all but shut down, and he now knew the woman behind that very appealing mind, knew her intimately. And he was going to enjoy her as much as possible. He pulled out of Hermione and roughly pulled her into his arms, striding across the room to his bed and throwing her into it, climbing in behind her and pushing her on her side, bending her knees, pressing her thighs together and kneeling behind her, beating her pink cheeks with his cock for several moments before pushing his member into her tight slit, one pale hand resting on her buttock, pushing it down so the grip of her pussy was even tighter as he began stroking her long and deep, whirling his loins and changing his angles as Hermione purred with pleasure, her eyes wet and glassy as she looked back at him, his hair plastered to his head as his thin, pale body moved rhythmically.

"Mmmm, such a tight little pussy, Hermione. It feels exquisite," he said to her silkily, his voice a caress that made her shudder, the softness a counterpoint to the delicious hardness piercing her over and over again. Damn, he was so good. How would she ever deal with Ron's lovemaking after this stallion of a wizard? Snape grasped her breast roughly and hit her with a hard, deep thrust, making her cry out before he returned to his easy pace.

"You liked that, Hermione. Underneath all that brain is the soul of one very wanton woman," he said softly, his nostrils flared as he looked down at her face. Her expression was one of bliss, and he whirled his pelvis so her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened, then went half-lidded. Snape folded over her, his face very close to hers as he continued fucking her slowly, her legs still twisted to the side.

"Do you think your Mr. Weasley will be able to follow this performance?" he breathed at her.

He stopped moving, his dark eyes gleaming as Hermione opened hers wider to look up at his sharp, hawkish features.

"He's going to have to," she replied softly, her voice tremulous as she felt the wizard, hard, pulsing and unmoving inside her, impaling her, making her feel as if her body wasn't her own at this moment, but totally his. Would this feeling ever leave her?

Snape frowned at her answer.

"He won't be able to. No one will," the wizard suddenly snarled and angrily rose to his knees, grabbing one of Hermione's legs and dragging it aside, cocking her wide open, falling over her body, moving upward, straightening out his legs, then spreading them as wide as possible, forcing Hermione's legs wider as well, his thighs resting on her thighs. He rose up on his hands and balanced on one as he positioned his cock for re-entry, Hermione's pussy wide open and trapped beneath the fat, dripping head, her eyes wide as she looked up at him.

"I'm going to fuck myself into your psyche so deeply, Hermione Granger, that any time another man touches you, you're going to compare him to me . . . and find him lacking," the wizard hissed, plunging downward and filling Hermione to the hilt, the witch screaming and digging her nails into his back in reaction.

He wasn't supposed to be doing this. This was supposed to be a one-time act, to satisfy her curiosity about him. Why was he trying to make himself unforgettable? Why was he doing this to her?

Because Snape was a covetous wizard who decided on the spur of the moment, that he'd rather fuck Hermione regularly than order girls from Madam Tootsie's House of Good Times. Hermione was the first decent witch he'd ever stuck his cock in and a wizard could get used to that.

Fuck Ron Weasley if he couldn't keep his woman. All's fair in lust and war.

Snape arched at the pain, feeling his flesh peel under her nails as she helpless drew them over the small of his back. Four thin crimson lines decorated his back, the first stripes he'd ever received from the claws of a Gryffindor lioness.

He fell still.

"I'm physically marked by you now," he breathed down at Hermione, "but you will carry my mark inside you for the rest of your days, Hermione, undetected by anyone other than you, me and no doubt Ronald Weasley when he finds he can no longer do it for you."

Snape gripped Hermione's wrists and held them tightly to the bed as he drove down into her hungrily, gouging out a place in her body, mind and soul as if drilling for oil, his eyes locked to her face as she cried out under him, looking beautiful in her surrender, breasts bouncing, body writhing under and around him, an angel fallen to his devilish designs.

Severus Snape was a driven man as he possessed Hermione's body as if it belonged to him, scouring every inch of the witch greedily, forcing his will on her as much as his lust, cursing and praising her as he lost himself to her, falling away from his normal selfish search for his own pleasure and doing his best to make the witch under him lose herself as well.

He was doing one hell of a job of it too. Hermione had never felt so completely taken by anyone in her life, although Ron was the only man she could compare Snape too, and in comparison . . . Ron was little more than an ardent boy than a true lover. The dark wizard was not only rocking her world, but turning it upside down and inside out. His slick body slapping against hers until only whimpers of pleasure issued from her slack mouth.

"Yes . . . I've got you now, Hermione Granger," he hissed down at her, his black eyes triumphant. "Any time you hear the words 'fuck', 'shag' or even 'make love,' my face will be the first one you see in your mind's eye. You are ruined, witch."

Hermione suddenly let out a cry as her body folded and fell under the Potions master's possession, hit by the most intense orgasm she'd ever experienced, the wizard hissing and falling still as her insides clutched and pulled at him, choking his cock as if it were caught in a soft, wet vise, Snape actually quaking, biting his lip as he fought his own release.

It was a losing battle as his eyelids fluttered, the irises starting to roll up as he looked down at the orgasming witch. She was just too lovely not to let go in.

"Damn you, you sexy . . . maddening witch . . ." Snape groaned, driving into Hermione frantically as his balls drew up and he ejaculated with a deep bellow, bliss pulsing through him, shot after hot, pleasurable shot as he filled the wellspring of woman gasping and shuddering beneath him, dropping on her body heavily as he released his supply of thick, creamy sperm deep inside her.

After several minutes, he roused, lifting his head and looking down at Hermione, who stared at him with glazed eyes.

Snape blinked at her, then helplessly . . . broke his own rules about putting his mouth on witches, and soundly kissed her . . . and continued to kiss her far into the night.

* * *

Ron didn't take it well when Hermione broke it off with him, moved out of her flat and (supposedly) took up residence in the Potions master's spare room. Apprentices usually lived with their masters after all.

Madam Tootsie didn't take it well either, especially when Snape closed his account of two decades with her establishment, the Madam offering him a 3 for 1 deal once a month if he would just keep his account open.

As interesting as that might have been, Snape stoically stuck to his wand about it, particularly since one of the conditions of he and Hermione continuing to be lovers was the closing of his account at the brothel. Hermione didn't want to be sleeping with everyone in the wizarding world, and besides, he didn't need anyone other than her.

On occasion, Hermione would have Severus line his bedroom with wall to wall mirrors.

"Are you satisfied with the layout, witch?" he'd purr at her as he started to disrobe.

"Oh yes," Hermione would purr back, nude and waiting in his four-poster bed.

"I still like to watch."

* * *

A/N: And there you have it. I finally brought it to the quick end I'd been reaching for. I hope you enjoyed this little PWP/Happy Ending. Thanks for reading.


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